


It's Me, Daisy

by sfiddy



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Daisy holds her own therapy sessions, Daisy needs someone to talk to, Gen, Mentions of most characters, Post 3x07, mentions of Skoulson, therapy blogging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 21:30:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5221535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sfiddy/pseuds/sfiddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy struggles with events, and Andrew Garner is gone.  She decides to start keeping a personal blog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Me, Daisy

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot imagine the struggles Daisy is having at this point in the show, post 3x07. This is how I suspect she deals with it. May add chapters as the season progresses, depending on how jossed it gets.

For a moment she hesitated, about to tap the mouse to record. Skye had spent countless hours recording podcasts, engaging in debates, and publicly dishing on secrets without a second thought. But that was to strangers, faceless strangers whose real names she’d never know. Daisy only spoke face to face or on secured and encrypted channels to people she knew and trusted. 

This was different. This was complicated. But she really needed to talk.

She pressed the mouse button and looked into the unblinking camera lens on her laptop.

“So, um, hi Dr. Garner. It’s me, Daisy. It’s about four days after… yeah. I know I told you how much I hated therapy when I was a kid, and I gave you a really hard time, but, you know, I kind of miss it. You were the first therapist I ever talked to that I ever connected with. I know the ones I had when I was a kid were good, and probably knew what they were doing, but I wasn’t really into it then. I don’t know if I was too angry, too sad, or just too young for it or what. 

“But, you know, I really need it now. Like, I’m struggling. May is my SO, but I can’t ask her to listen, god she has enough to deal with without my crap. Jemma, too. Mack is too busy, and Bobbi and Hunter are just… they’re Bobbi and Hunter and one minute they’re yelling and the next I want to bleach the surveillance cameras. 

“I can’t talk to Lincoln. He’s spun up in some kind of self-hate and if I start talking to him it turns into a pretty scary conversation.

Daisy paused. She’d led herself exactly where Andrew would have let her go.

“I know, Coulson is the best person to talk to besides you, but--” Daisy double checked her encryption. “I think he might be compromised. Not like, brainwashed compromised, but judgement compromised. He…”

She swallowed hard around a lump that had formed in her throat over recent weeks. 

“He’s involved. With Price. You know, I get having needs. I get it, I’m not a kid and I’m not stupid, but why does it need to be her? She’s totally lying to him and we don’t know why yet. He says she trusts him, and when he doesn’t come back to the base until morning…”

Deep breath.

“It doesn’t take a lot of brains to figure that out. And I’m not sure what bothers me most, that she’s using him, that he’s letting himself be used, or that maybe… maybe he’s the one using her.”

That was too close to home. Daisy quickly tapped the mouse to stop the recording and spent the next hour beating some sense into a punching bag.

…

“Hi Dr. Garner. It’s me, Daisy. You know, I read once that when you’ve been through a trauma, that it’s best to introduce normal life routines as quickly as tolerable. Sometimes you have to modify them so they’re less challenging, but long term avoidance of normal behavior can result in higher incidence of post-traumatic stress syndrome. That’s what these can be for you, maybe, an easy introduction back to your routines.”

Daisy chewed the end of a pen.

“Okay, that was bull. I’m not doing this with any great plan. This is totally about me right now, though I really do hope they’ll help you. I know they will, because you’re going to be back. I won’t let that go, because May needs someone else to believe with her. I’m not going to tell her I’m doing this, though, at least not yet. And this isn’t false hope, because I don’t believe there is such a thing. There’s always room for hope, and there’s always a chance of things going right, no matter how bad they look.”

She paused, letting her eyes skim her barren bunk. She’d locked away her few things in a storage locker, had a bug out bag ready, and kept her field suit ready to go at all times these days.

“There’s always a chance.”

...


End file.
